


Takes one to know one

by Ravenclaw_Scientist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Sexual Tension, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Scientist/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Scientist
Summary: A storm traps an unlikely pairing together. On the verge of the second wizarding war, Ginny wants one last little rebellion.Written for ImaRavenclaw's Another Random Pairing Challenge and dreamshadow's Trapped Together Challenge over on HPFT.
Relationships: Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Kudos: 14





	Takes one to know one

Ginny stepped under the shower stream, revelling in the heat running over her skin. Playing Slytherin in that storm had been brutal and despite the fact that Gryffindor had won, she was not in the mood for celebrating. Although it was more pleasant to play against Slytherin without Malfoy present, there had been numerous injuries within her team because of the low visibility. Harry had to run off after the match for an occlumency lesson and Ginny had volunteered to tidy the changing room, mostly as a sorry to her teammates after getting embarrassingly drunk and being carried to bed the previous week, on her sixteenth birthday. The state of the room after her team left had left her in a foul mood. It took her at least thirty minutes to clear everything away and the mud had caked onto her face. 

She scratched at a particularly stubborn spot of dirt on her forearm, revealing a hint of blood from a cut she hadn’t noticed before. She was going to hex Harry for having prior commitments outside of his team, all of that cleaning shouldn’t have been her job. There was a loud clap of thunder. She should get back up to the castle soon, but the heat of the shower was calming her mood somewhat and she knew she wouldn’t be able to have this long in a cubicle in the dorms. So she stepped completely under the stream, closing her eyes and letting her hair cling to her face. 

There was another loud rumble of thunder. Perhaps louder than before, perhaps it was the water in her ears. Either way, it was enough to bring her back to reality and she took the painful decision to shut off the water and head back. Except there was an empty changing room for her to enjoy so she took her time towel drying, casually parading around the room naked. Being naked was a rare luxury at Hogwarts, even during sex. There were too many prying eyes; horny teenagers or prefects looking to dock points at any moment. It was far too risky, unless you had an exhibitionist kink, which Ginny didn’t think she had. 

Being with Dean had been wonderful for Ginny’s confidence and if she was really honest, so had breaking up with him. Growing up with six brothers had left her the butt of a lot of teasing and the Weasley boys weren’t above making jokes about her body. Her parents would shun their teasing but Ginny had learnt to handle what they couldn’t filter out well. That had left her with a thick skin and a certain disdain for men who didn’t treat her in the way that she felt she should be made her feel; special, loved, wanted. As she had grown up, this had manifested in a desire to be desired. Dean had been doing that, and even though she knew that she really wanted Harry, she wouldn’t take back a second of her time with Dean. She didn’t know when Harry was going to get his act together but she did know that she would be worth his while. She couldn’t wait to blow his mind. 

There was a harsh clap of thunder and the noise of something wooden snapping from outside. Ginny decided not to panic. She could always cast a heating charm on her way back to the castle and she had a perfectly good excuse as to why she was out in the storm but she did decide to hurry up and get dressed. She pulled on her leggings and decided to just put on her Harpies hoodie. Anything she put on would only get wet and have to be washed by the time she walked across the grounds. 

She threw her cloak over her head and slung her heavy kit back over her shoulder and left the changing room, turning right towards the exit of the Quidditch pitch. It was very dark so she fumbled for her wand in her pocket, casting  _ lumos _ wordlessly. A figure in front of her jumped. They were leaning on the remains of the large wooden doors, holding a wand to the lock, obviously in an attempt to get them to open. 

“Hello?” Ginny called into the shadows. 

The figure turned around, face illuminating in Ginny’s wand light. “Oh, Weasley,” said Blaise Zabini. He too looked weathered by the storm but was standing as tall and confident as ever, with his perfect chiseled jawline, he fully grown into himself. He looked towards Ginny with a mixture of disgust and pity. “There’s no other way out and the storm has collapsed this exit. Why are you here?” 

Ginny frowned at him. “I was dealing with the changing rooms. Have you tried to bombarda it?” 

“Obviously,” Blaise replied, making no effort to make conversation.

“Shit. Can’t we just clear the rubble?” Ginny asked, panic just starting to prickle at the back of her head. 

Another clap of thunder and the elements answered her question for her. There was another bang from outside the door which suggested that the doors would be falling apart quicker than they could clear the mess, even with magic. 

“Apparently not,” Ginny whispered to herself. 

The building shook and she suddenly felt very unsafe. 

“Look, we should get away from the door.” Blaise suggested, uncharacteristically kindly.

“Yes,” Ginny mumbled. “I know that the broom storage is underground. We should go there.” 

Blaise nodded, “lead the way.” He was just happy that there was another person in that building with him, although he would never admit it. 

Ginny led the pair back the way they came, turning into a narrow corridor with a low ceiling but a few working lamps, illuminating the space slightly. She began to descend some steps, breath uneasy and hand clutched on her wand. She was leading herself into an enclosed space with Blaise Zabini. This was risky. 

The room was stuffy but as soon as the door closed, the noises of the storm faded into the background. It was a welcome break to the crashing and rumbling. Ginny looked around the room. There were a lot of brooms in various states of newness and a pile of cloaks in the corner. She quickly realised that she could transfigure the pile into something for them both to sit on. 

Blaise got them first, pulling out his wand and (quite brilliantly) transfiguring the cloaks into two armchairs. He smirked and sat down on one of them. 

Ginny scowled.

“Feel free to sit, Weasley,” said Blaise, cooly. 

“No need to be a show off.” 

Blaise smirked again, rummaging in his kit bag. 

“So. What do we do in here?” Ginny mused, sitting down and rummaging in her own bag. 

Baise shrugged and kept searching for whatever he was looking for. 

“Ok, then,” Ginny trailed off. “Should we put our wands away?” 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Weasley,” Blaise responded, not looking up. 

Ginny scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you. Shall we just put them on the other side of the room?” 

Blaise looked up, face untelling. “You’re not very good at hiding fear.” Nevertheless he pulled his wand out of his trousers and threw it towards the other side of the room. “I’m unarmed,” he uttered. He continued looking in his kit bag. 

Ginny stood to put her wand next to his. She wasn’t going to thoughtlessly throw such an expensive item as he had. 

Blaise was still rummaging. 

“What are you looking for?” Ginny asked. 

Blaised huffed. Ginny thought this was very rude since she had asked a perfectly reasonable question. 

“Sorry I didn’t quite catch that?” She asked again. 

“We’ve missed dinner but I don’t think I’ve got any food packed in here,” he grumbled in response. 

Ginny was yet to consider this but she did have granola bars in her bag. 

“Hungry?” She teased. 

“Obviously. Am I not clearly looking for something?” He replied, giving as good as she gave. 

“No need to be rude, Zabini,” she grumbled, slumping back into her chair.

“Are people likely to come and look for you?” Blaise questioned, genuinely. 

“Why? Are they unlikely to look for you?” Ginny fornwed. 

Blaise shrugged, “I can’t imagine who would. Pansy perhaps but not until the morning.”

Ginny hummed, “I also have a habit of disappearing for the night.” 

“What have you been up to, Weasley?” Blaise raised an eyebrow and finally gave up with his bag. 

She scoffed, “wouldn’t you like to know?” 

Blaise rolled his eyes, giving away nothing. 

“What have you been up to, Zabini?” She shot again. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can use your imagination.” He shot her a deadly smile. 

Ginny tried not to melt under his gaze. She silently scolded herself for not being the dorm mate who always kept her friends updated on her whereabouts, but perhaps this could be a fun adventure. 

She didn’t know what made her suddenly take pity on him but Ginny grabbed her box of granola bars from her bag and put it between them, taking one for herself. Blaise’s eyes lit up and she thought it was slightly adorable. 

“Help yourself,” she mumbled, taking a bite. 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Blaise questioned.

Ginny shrugged, “wanted to see you suffer for a bit. You owe me now.” 

“Fine,” he replied, having no choice and took one from the top of the pile. 

The pair ate in silence, devouring the bars after the tiring game. Ginny studied Blaise. He was exceptionally good looking and she honestly didn't mind having to look at him. This was an excellent excuse to take in his features without having to explain herself as she had wanted to do several times this past year. 

“Stop staring at me,” Blaise exclaimed, a lot louder than Ginny thought was necessary. 

Ginny was taken aback for a second but soon got back into her stride. “There’s not a lot to look at, shall I keep my eyes closed?” 

“I don’t appreciate being stared at by a blood traitor,” Blaise sneered.

Ginny dared. “Oh come off it, Blaise. You don’t have to pretend you actually believe that crap in here, with me, alone.” 

“Excuse me?” Blaise scoffed.

“I don’t believe that you actually care about who I’m friends with for a second,” Ginny taunted, enjoying herself. “I don’t think you actually care about what Malfoy is up to for any reason other than the fact that you care about him as a friend. You’re not like them Blaise.”

She shrugged.

There was silence.

“How dare you,” Blaise spat. 

“It’s true. It must be horrible to have to pretend for the sake of your family. I’ve not just been watching this evening. I’ve seen how you react to Dumbledore's speeches.” She paused, gauging his reaction. 

Blaised let out a long breath. “Why are you trying to wind me up?” 

Ginny shrugged quickly. “I’m just making conversation.” 

“I’m not sure what I believe,” he admitted. Something in these words softened his features. 

Ginny nodded, “no, me neither. I’m sick of being treated like a child who isn’t able to take the truth from anyone.” 

“Imagine being around Malfoy all the time but him telling you nothing. I know he must know what’s going on. He just must, but he treats me like I’m useless,” Blaise agreed. 

There was silence again. The muffled sounds of the storm raged on outside. Ginny fiddled with the ties on her hoodie, remembering that she hadn’t put anything on underneath, unsure if she was annoyed at herself or strangely happy with her decision. The minutes crawled by, Blaise occasionally getting up and fiddling with an old broom. He clearly adored them, trying to pull twigs into place and set them into better positions for their upkeep. She took no guilt in watching him work and objectifying his body, nimble fingers working at the fastenings. He had great arms. He slumped back into the chair.

“Think we should settle in for the night?” Blaise asked.

Ginny allowed herself to giggle at him. “Tired, Zabini?” 

“Bored, actually,” he responded. 

Ginny smirked, “what could we do to keep you entertained?” 

Blaise looked at her. She had the look in her eye that he had seen on countless women before. He decided to indulge her. She looked quite attractive in her workout leggings and Harpies hoodie, which she’d obviously cropped herself, stopping just above her belly button. 

“I’m a hard man to please,” Blaise challenged. 

Ginny kicked off her trainers and sat up, sock clad feet flat now on the ground. She looked him in the eye, trying to figure him out. Was she going to do this? It would be awkward to pursue anything if he ended up with a dark mark on his arm within a matter of months. But that wasn’t a world that she wanted to live in and if she was going to have to, why couldn’t she take this time to reject the world right now? Their own little rebellion. 

Blaise sat up too, watching. 

Ginny decided to push it a bit further. She moved her arm back to massage a knot at the back of her shoulder, closed her eyes and let herself sit in the pleasure of it. That game really had hurt her. She knew that he was watching and she loved it. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she let her unfocused gaze fall onto him. She outstretched her arms and interlaced her fingers, arms cracking, a barely-there moan falling from her lips. The moan was an accident but it spiked his attention beautifully. She stretched up, trying to crack the spot at the top of her spine that was bothering her, concentrating on the sensations of her body, thoroughly enjoying herself. She felt her hoodie ride up, trying to make it clear to him what she wanted, as if they weren’t there already. 

She hummed, “that’s better.”

Blaise sat back in his chair. He was fiddling with his thumbs and looked interested. Ginny mentally patted herself on the back. They were on the same page. 

“You seem to be playing a dangerous game, Weasley,” Blaise mused. 

She sat back, trying to read her body properly. She squeezed her thighs together as subtly as possible. A clear reading. She wanted this. Time to step it up. 

“Want to play?” Ginny challenged. 

Blaise didn’t speak. Instead he stood and went to move forwards towards her. 

Ginny stood quickly. “No, sit,” she instructed. 

“Excuse me?” Blaise shot back, quickly, taking a step forward. 

“Sit,” Ginny repeated, stepping forward as well and edging into his personal space. He didn’t flinch. “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out. “Do you?” 

Ginny faltered for a second. She knew that asking for consent was a good thing but she wasn't expecting it to happen so explicitly. 

“Do you?” He asked again. 

“Yes. Sit.” 

“Why?” He asked, back to the fast-pace responses. 

She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, mustering her strength and pushing. He moved back easily, unfighting.

She leaned up, lips an inch away from his. She whispered, “because you do not own me and I am in charge here.” 

Ginny placed a peck on the corner of his lips and leaned back, pushing on his shoulders again. “Sit down,” she commanded. 

Blaise didn’t question her again, taking two steps back at her pace and dropping into the chair. He pulled her with him with a hand lightly wrapped around the back of her neck. 

Ginny smiled, triumphant. “Thank you, Zabini,” she muttered. She leaned in to kiss him, so ready to get going, but he held her head back. 

Smirking, Blaise spoke. “Well, well, Weasley. You really are a bit of a slut.” 

Ginny shrugged, an equal smirk on her face, running fingers along his jawline. “Takes one to know one.”


End file.
